


crush

by avocado_enthusiast



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, Kageyama is a dork, M/M, Pining, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23362894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avocado_enthusiast/pseuds/avocado_enthusiast
Summary: Honestly this is all Hinata’s fault. If he had kept his mouth shut, then Kageyama wouldn’t be having this crisis.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 20
Kudos: 223





	crush

**Author's Note:**

> Oops my hand slipped.

“Is it my form?” Hinata asked, interrupting their already unproductive study session. It had become their ritual. After practice, they would trek up to Kageyama’s house, both sweaty and tired after another grueling practice to complete their homework. The only thing that pulled them through was the desire to not be outdone by the other. Twin currents of competitiveness led to completed assignments, albeit mostly incorrect, but still finished. 

Kageyama looked up from his English homework. “Eh?” 

“My form. Is it bad?” 

“Your hitting form is fine, dumbass.” It had been more than fine as of a couple of hours ago. Hinata hit every toss Kageyama gave him. Something akin to the feeling of getting a new volleyball bloomed in his chest. Kageyama cursed.

That. That right there is the problem, and the answer to why Hinata caught him staring.

Kageyama looked back to his notes squelching the warm feeling away. After a moment of silence Kageyama thinks he got away with it, that his answer was enough. He silently thanks whatever deity is responsible for hiding awkward confessions on your teammate. 

Turns out the gods ain’t shit because Hinata plopped down in front of a now startled Kageyama, his gaze searching and earnest.

“Then what did I do to make you mad at me?”

“What are you talking about, dumbass?” Deny. Deny. Deny.

“At practice you kept looking at me with your ‘I wish I could receive, toss, and spike, all by myself’ face — yeah that’s the one!”

Should Kageyama be offended?

The ginger rolled over, so his head was centered on Kageyama’s crossed legs. Oh dear.

“It’s really intense Kageyama-kun. It makes my heart go GWAH! So I thought I did something to make you upset.” Hinata lets out a breath like he’s confessing a long held secret. 

Kageyama couldn’t control the heat that stained his face. He didn’t think he’d been staring at Hinata too much, had he? 

“You’re overthinking things. Get back to work, we both need passing grades to play in the next match.”

Volleyball always reigned Hinata in, and Kageyama was eager to change the subject. But this truly was eating up Hinata’s mind seeing as he asked a final time, his voice softer.

“So you’re not annoyed with me?”

“I’m always annoyed with you.” Hinata’s about to retort with some loud, no doubt dumbass response, so Kageyama quickly adds. “But your form has improved.” 

The smaller boy nodded sagely, content with Kageyama's rare praise, rolling off to his work space. Kageyama gratefully latches onto his homework. His knees still warm from where Hinata rested his head.

-

Ever since Hinata’s dumbass comment, Kageyama noticed how much he watched the energetic ginger. They’re doing warm up stretches, and of course Hinata has to make it a point to show just how flexible he is. 

Hinata easily folds over, small palms slapping the ground in a hamstring stretch. The thin camisole of his white practice tee scrunches with his movement, revealing the tanned skin of his back. 

Kageyama gulps. As if he knows Kageyama’s watching, Hinata transitions into a dangerously low lunge. Then the taught muscle flexes. 

Kageyama’s head is swimming.

“I’m running laps.” Kageyama barks out to Daichi.

“I’m running too!” Hinata makes it a point to run in stride with Kageyama, invading his personal bubble. They circle around a few more times before Hinata sprints forward. Kageyama locks onto the strong lines of the shorter man’s back. How his arms pumped forward, carrying him closer to flight. Kageyama surged forward taking the bait to Hinata’s challenge. The image of Hinata’s small body propelling forward seared into his mind.

Kageyama swore to never let Hinata race in front of him, for the sake of Kageyama’s competitive streak and his sanity. 

One hour stretched on to two, and Kageyama threw himself into his tosses, not holding back an ounce of reserve. At the water break, Kageyama chugs down mouthfuls of water. His thirst seemed endless.

Hinata downs his own water with equal fervor, thick droplets running down his already soaked tee. Kageyama can track the drink as it travels down Hinata’s throat with every gulp. 

Kageyama’s mouth is dry again. He grabs another bottle.

-

It’s worse outside of practice. 

Kageyama can deal with Hinata’s eager high fives, back slaps, and him jumping on Kageyama’s shoulders during practices and matches. But outside of the adrenaline filled environment, Kageyama became hyper aware of just how affectionate Hinata was. 

Kageyama did not come from a doting family, and his middle school experience left him little knowledge of friendly pats or teasing hair ruffles. Not that Hinata minded. The red head always made it a point to stay in contact with Kageyama. Clasping his hand when he saw a cute cat on their walks home, pressing into Kageyama’s side, his bubblegum scented hair assaulting Kageyama’s nose, knocking their knees together on the bus. 

It was overwhelming at first. When Kageyama confronted him about it, Hinata actually listened and refrained from his playful taps. Later Kageyama revised his stance and said he didn’t mind if Hinata clambered onto him within reason (Kageyama has yet to figure out those parameters). But that’s because Hinata is a naturally affectionate person, Kageyama rationalised. It was purely platonic, and Kageyama found the warm presses comforting. Nothing weird about that. 

But now...

“Kageyamaaa-” Was the only warning he got before a smaller and warmer body collided with his own. Hinata’s small hands clung to his forearm, the smaller boy using Kageyama as leverage as he dragged his feet. Warmth zinged up his arm and something warm and uncomfortable tightened in his chest. 

“Yes Hinata?” No one spared the duo a look, far too used to Hinata’s koala-like tendencies and too intimidated by Kageyama to intervene. 

“Can we get pork buns before our extra practice session today?” 

Kageyama stopped walking, Hinata stumbled further into his arm. 

“You didn’t forget about our session today, right? We’re gonna work on my receives, so that way the ball will go ZOOM and SHA-PING!” Hinata gesticulated whatever a ZOOM and SHA-PING pass would look like.

Kageyama’s silence did little to defend him, but that goddamn bubblegum scent was messing with his senses. 

“You did forget!” Cue another tap to Kageyama’s side. “No worries Kageyama, I’ll even buy you some milk.” Hinata’s expression mirrored Noya and Tanaka’s “look how great of a senpai I am” face. 

Kageyama grumbled out something intelligible before heading to his next class. He roughly slapped both of his cheeks with his hands, squaring up to his reflection in the vending machine. 

“You better get your shit together.”

He took out some change, jabbing the buttons on the machine. It was a two milk carton kind of day.

But overall Kageyama is fine.

-

Kageyama is not fine.

Honestly this is all Hinata’s fault. If he had kept his mouth shut, then Kageyama wouldn’t have this crisis. 

“Another one!” Hinata says, sprinting to retrieve a ball. For the past hour the two have honed in on Hinata’s defensive movement, with little progress. However, Kageyama’s frustration lies with himself. Hinata should not be this enticing. 

Hinata is short and messy and loud.

And Kageyama is Kageyama, he shouldn’t like anyone, guy or girl.

Kageyama’s eyes slide back to Hinata. His smaller stature only emphasized the hard earned and supple muscles of his legs. The powerful stretch of his body as he sends the ball crashing on the other side of the court. Legs that arced and raced through the court at dizzying speeds. And chords of muscle that flex only to spring forward in another mesmerizing show of flushed skin and eager eyes. And his hair, that appalling orange that first assaulted Kageyama’s eyes. Even that mellowed into an appealing shade that reminded Kageyama of sunsets he used to watch as a kid. 

Said mop of orange hair was plastered on Hinata's forehead as the aspiring ace crouched low into a defensive stance. Kageyma tosses the ball up, feet gliding across the back court. Thankfully volleyball can mute the internal screaming of Kageyama’s mind. 

The ball arcs across the net with a deadly spin. Hinata throws himself behind the ball, but his form breaks. The rogue ball soars into the bleachers.

“Noya makes it look so easy.” Hinata mopes.

“You’re thinking too much like a hitter.”

Kagayama envisions Hinata’s sporadic movements and compares them to Noya’s fluid ones. “Serve receive isn’t all about bursts of action or flashy moves. It’s a mental battle all about confidence and intentionality. You have to know what you want, and then you have to get it.” 

“You know Kageyama, that wasn’t stupid advice.” Hinata rubs his chin in thought, as if Kageyama giving good advice was something Hinata had never considered before.

“Dumbass I always give good advice! You’re just too stupid to realize it!”

“Hey! You get the same marks as me on tests, so you’re stupid, stupid Bakayama!”

After their ritual recess roasting session, Kageyama serves again. Whether the serve was intentionally harder than the last, no one can say (it totally was). Hinata’s reflexes carried him to the arc of Kageyama’s serve. His form was sloppy, but committed and less flaily, more concentrated. It was a perfect pass. 

Noya would be proud. 

Hinata finally calls it in after a series of successful passes. Both of them are sweaty and satisfied.

“Bakayama—” Hinata’s voice sounds like a resigned pout, it reminds Kageyama of when his mom forced him to apologize to his sister. 

“Thanks for helping me with receives and sorry I said you were stupider than me. We both know we’re equally dumb.”

“Dumbass.” The word came out more endearing than Kageyama was comfortable with, and he had already forgiven Hinata ages ago. 

Kageyama heads to the bleachers to retrieve the lone ball. He picks it up and studies it for a moment.

“Confidence and intentionality.” He repeats to himself. 

“Kageyama, I almost forgot to give you your milk!” Hinata presents the small carton in the air like one would a trophy. It was then Kageyama asked Hinata to get some pork buns this upcoming weekend. 

Weekend after weekend, they entered Ukai’s store. Hinata would always ask for one pork bun, and Kageyama would always order two. 

And if Kageyama began reciprocating Hinata’s shoulder nudges and ruffling his hair, Hinata never complained or commented on the matter. If they added new traditions like holding hands on their long walks home, Hinata remarking ‘second hand kiss’ when they share drinks, or chaste pecks when they nail their quick attack, no one says a word. But some money is exchanged, leaving Tsukishima twenty bucks richer.

**Author's Note:**

> Let's be real, Tsuki always knows what's up.


End file.
